


When the Bough Breaks

by Kaiyou



Series: Scions and Sake [10]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blood, Drug Use, M/M, Vampire Politics, Vampires, akaashi and oiks are such good friends tho, alcohol use, as are kuroo and bokuto, much angst, much unrequited, some scary/horror moments potentially, technically this is bokuaka but it's also painful?, violence mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:24:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9575702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: For years, everyone has known Bokuto is in love with Akaashi. For years, everyone assumed that Akaashi loves him back. But Akaashi's family has secrets, and sometimes, when too many secrets weigh on you, eventually things start to break.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the main timeline of this verse, in line timewise with the STZ arc, right after Goshiki coming to the city. It may stand on its own? But reading the other bits may help. In some ways this is the start of where the story starts weaving together.
> 
> Also, kinda like the STZ arc I'm posting this in series.

This was just like a nightmare. In fact, Akaashi was fairly sure he’d had a nightmare like this before, waking up with sweat-soaked sheets all sunsick, listening for footsteps outside his room. 

Normally the footsteps didn’t come, especially during the day. 

This evening, though -

He’d known it was a gamble.

There were reasons - good reasons - why he never let anyone come over.

He’d let down his guard lately, started to actually feel happy once in awhile when hanging out with his friends. Kenma was plotting something, but Kenma was always plotting. Kuroo and Bokuto had started up some stupid band and were always singing at each other in the car. Oikawa was smiling, letting Iwaizumi hold his hand, and there hadn’t been any incident with Oikawa’s parents for months. Even Semi was happy.

Of course, he should’ve known his happiness couldn’t last forever. 

He knew, as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. He could smell it. Heard the ratchety crooning voice coming from the living room. Saw just a wisp of blond hair falling over the edge of the sofa, the crimson pool spreading out on the carpet -

“Leave,” Akaashi said, slamming the door behind him before anyone else could get too close.

“Awww, Akaashi?” Bokuto said, pouting as he hung off of Kuroo. “We were finally going to be able to see -”

“Get out of here!”

He hated the pain in Bokuto’s eyes, hated the calm analysis on Oikawa and Kenma’s faces. He rarely exposed himself this much even to them. That was fine. Let them wonder.

Far better of them to wonder than to find out the truth.

Mentally he counted his breaths, willing them to go. There was a chance - there was always a chance. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, after all. 

“We can go to my place,” Kenma said, voice soft. “Or go to the bar.”

Akaashi didn’t care. He turned around, listening to them start to shuffle off.

A broad hand curled gently around his shoulder. “Akaashi, if you need anything -”

“I need you to go away, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said.

He hated the pained little intake of breath, hated that Kuroo would no doubt spend the next couple of hours calming Bokuto down. It had been months since Akaashi had upset the human badly, and if he was honest, Bokuto was the last person he actually wanted to hurt.

But no one could see what was going on in his apartment. Especially not Oikawa or Kenma, even if they were allies - but most especially, no humans.

When they were gone he opened the door and slid inside, rushing to the living room.

A figure sat against the wall, rocking back and forth, all fingernails and lace. He hated, hated -

There was a blonde on the couch.

She was the new girl, the one that the American ambassador had sent over. Young. Her eyes had been blue, Akaashi remembered. Cheeks red like apples.

They were pale now.

Steeling himself he pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing his aunt.

“Obasan. She did it again.”

There was a curse on the other end of the line, the sound of keys clattering away on a keyboard. “What’s the thing’s condition?”

Leaning over, Akaashi tried to ignore the fact that he was stepping in blood. He wrapped his fingers around a wrist, hoping that maybe, maybe, he’d find a pulse.

The flesh was cold. 

“Gone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Obasan.”

Cold. The wrist was partially healed, but not enough. The only way he could’ve saved her would’ve been if he’d been there hours ago.

That at least was a minor relief.  
“I’ll send people over to take care of it. Just make sure she’s in her room before they get there.”

“Yes, Obasan. Thank you.”

The phone clicked off. Fast. Simple. Efficient. His aunt in a nutshell.

The humming stopped, lace shifting. “Keiji?” croaked the voice that he’d hated all his life.

“Yes, mother,” he said.

“Keiji, you’re home! I drew a picture for you.”

“Thank you, mother.”

He made himself look at her, look at the smears of blood on the wall behind her. This girl’s blood - Alice, Alison? Alyssa?

They’d have to get new wallpaper.

“I started running out of paint,” his mother said, rubbing her hand over it. “I needed more. It’s such a pretty color, don’t you think?”

“Yes, mother,” he said, wanting to close his eyes to all of this. “Do you think we could go to your room? Read a story?”

“Come here now!” The nails scraped along the wood of the floor, beckoning him closer. “I want you to see all the details. Look, here I am, and here’s Osamu, and Naoki, and here’s Mai - did I ever tell you what a sweet child she was? So gentle, I could just eat her up - and here’s ...”

Akaashi nodded as he knelt beside her, trying to ignore the fact that he’d tracked blood over the floor, trying to ignore how her boney fingers wrapped around his wrists, nails tapping around his skin. “It’s very nice, mother,” he murmured.

It was horrifying.

Theoretically, he supposed, a person could get used to things like this. He had friends who were in medical school who dealt with blood all the time. But this was different, this was someone he’d known even if only for a few exchanges, this was a person -

He had to stop thinking.

“I think it’s beautiful, mother,” he murmured. “Could we go look at photographs in your room?”

“So insistent,” his mother said, blood-stained hand moving from the wall to his cheek, turning him toward her. He could see the darkness of her eyes back behind the lacy veil. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just cold here,” he lied. “You know it’s warmer in your room.”

He wanted to hold his breath while he waited to see if she would take the bait. He hated being this close to her, this close to those long sharp nails. She’d hurt him before. Punishment for something, some word that had struck her wrong, or perhaps because he’d let the wind blow over her favorite tree on the balcony. The only rhyme and reason that existed in his mother’s mind were caricatures of the real thing, fragments strung together like her torn bits of lace.

“Fine, Keiji,” she murmured, patting his cheek. “Let’s go look at pictures of the family.”

Controlling his sigh of relief, he let her lead him to her room.

~~~~~

It took four hours before he was able to get away. By that time the cleaners had finished downstairs. His aunt texted him the details.

No note of concern, of course. At least she hadn’t added an admonition that he pay closer attention to his mother’s moods this time. Sometimes he got so tired -

But as she’d said, this was what it meant to be a prince of the Akaashi family.

Climbing into the shower he mused about his fate. Some days he wished he could just run away. His mother was ancient, one of the oldest vampires still classified as sane, at least in Japan. Her continued existence was part of what made other families respect them so much - she was a remnant of times that were far less kind than the ones they lived in now. Old and powerful.

Akaashi’s conception had been something of an experiment by the last head of the house. On some levels, it had been considered a triumph for her to even get pregnant, proof of the strength of their house’s bloodline. From what Akaashi had heard, his mother had even been somewhat sane before his birth.

She was not sane anymore.

He’d been raised on whispers and warnings, dark glances and harsh commands. His aunt wasn’t really his aunt, of course - as far as bloodlines went, he was much closer to the source than she was. She was the descendant of his mother’s sister, however, so he supposed that counted.

The former head of the house was dead, ripped apart by his mother soon after Akaashi drew his first breath. Some had even whispered Akaashi’s first meal had been the heartblood of the man who had decided it was a good idea to bring him to life.

No one outside the family knew.

No one could ever know. If people found out his mother was unstable, found out that she’d lost the ability to control as she fed -

Hands shaking, Akaashi pressed against the tiles and hoped that instability wasn’t hereditary.

He had to leave.

Oikawa was quick to answer when he called.

“Aka-chan! Everything alright?”

“Fine,” Akaashi said. “Just a little mixup. I forgot about a meeting my mother had planned, and she gets a little cranky with unexpected guests.”

“Oh, parents,” Oikawa said, acting as if this was normal. “Well, if you’re still bored, the boys decided to get drunk and break things again. Out at the abandoned factory where we did fireworks that one time? I’ll send you the address if you need.”

“Please,” Akaashi said.

There was no telling which factory Oikawa was talking about, but at this moment he’d take anything to get out of the house.

~~~~

The GPS on his phone led him out towards the edge of the industrial district and north, a place where buildings had been left empty following some of the economic decline of the past decade. Akaashi was fairly certain that Oikawa’s family still owned this land. They might be destructive at times, but they weren’t criminal about it.

Realistically no one would care.

As he parked the car, Akaashi could hear the whoops and hollers of the people inside. Glass crunched under his shoes as he walked towards a half-open door, ducking inside and following the lines of glow-in-the-dark paint that had been sprayed on the walls, leading to a large open space in the middle.

Bottles crashed against the side of the wall, people laughing as they danced to loud music. Akaashi hated parties like this. Hated the raw abandonment of them, the loss of control. Some of the vampires loved them, loved how wild the humans got when drunk, loved the way they could taste the alcohol in their veins. 

He wasn’t one of them.

Then again, he’d never drunk from a human directly. Maybe he just didn’t get the appeal.

“Took you long enough to show up,” Oikawa said, sliding an arm around his neck and pulling him over toward a small island of calm in the midst of the chaos. 

Kenma was there, tapping away on his laptop. That wasn’t unusual. His companion, however, was.

“Good evening, Kuguri-san,” Akaashi said.

The vampire nodded, taking a sip of blood from a bottle before he turned his attention back to the crowd. Ah. There, dancing on top of a beat-up van, was the reason for his attendance.

“It’s rare for Mika-chan to grace us with her presence,” Akaashi said, taking a seat by Kenma.

“Kuroo-san told Daishou about the party,” said Kuguri.

That was odd. Kuroo and Daishou tended to abhor each other, as far as Akaashi knew. It was a good thing the two humans were in different weight classes so they didn’t have any official matches. The few times they’d tried sparring against each other, Bokuto’d had to wade in and break it up.

Kenma seemed to be ignoring the whole exchange, but it made Akaashi curious.

Always scheming. 

Of course, it could mean nothing at all.

“Akaaaaaaaashi!” cried a loud voice.

Bracing himself, Akaashi turned toward the voice.

He was not ready. 

Bokuto looked glorious in a ripped black tank top and low cut jeans, face and arms painted with black lines in some approximation of his hair. His eyes were so bright against the dark lines. Kuroo was next to him in a messy red flannel shirt, completely unbuttoned over black jeans.

It was getting harder and harder to resist Bokuto’s golden eyes, the heat he saw in them whenever the human looked at him. Akaashi always wanted what he couldn’t have.

Nevermind that everyone considered Bokuto his already.

Nevermind that Bokuto never looked at anyone else - not really, at least. Random dalliances with Kuroo and Kenma didn’t count.

Akaashi knew Bokuto would come to him whenever he called.

Some nights, it was hard to remember why he never did.

The knowledge of that was written deep in Bokuto’s eyes, in the superhuman patience behind his heated smile. Bokuto didn’t know why he held back - no one did, really - but Bokuto had never lost confidence that Akaashi did want him, even after countless rejections.

Not that Akaashi could blame him.

It was true.

“Kuroo, my man!” slurred a new, and vastly unwelcome, voice.

Terushima Yuuji.

The sight of him wrapping arms around Bokuto and Kuroo’s shoulders made Akaashi want to tear those arms off. Tonight, he just might do it.

Bokuto pursed his lips before turning his head, looking at the baggie held in the hand hanging over Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Look what I got, man. Wanna try? It’s supposed to be good stuff.”

Akaashi glanced at Kenma, but his friend only looked up from his computer for a glance before ignoring the situation in front of him.

Kuroo looked uncertain for a moment, looking over at Kenma and swallowing before he smirked. “Heh, hmm. I dunno, are you sure -”

“Hey man, don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Kazuma’s gonna do it too, so you’ll have company - if you want, I mean.”

That was a leer. Akaashi really hated the other prince right at that moment.

“Ah... ok, sure, why not, yeah.”

“You want to come too, Bokuto? More the merrier, if you know what I -”

“Bokuto-san.”

The word was out of Akaashi’s mouth before he even realized he’d said it. He didn’t know what the hell Kenma was doing, letting Terushima put his hands all over Kuroo like that - it was his business. Kuroo’s business. 

But Bokuto?

Bokuto was his.

Relief flooded the Bokuto’s face as he turned to Akaashi, murmuring a couple words of apology before walking over to Akaashi.

Kuroo and Terushima had melted back into the crowd, but Akaashi barely noticed. He was too busy staring at Bokuto, at the gleaming muscles showing through the tears in his shirt. 

“Yes, Akaashi?” Bokuto murmured as he stood right in front of him.

For just a moment, the rest of the world outside those golden eyes fell away. His family, his mother, whatever mischief everyone else was getting up to. For a moment, all he wanted was this man - to protect, have, hold -

Fuck -

“Dance with me,” Akaashi said, throwing caution to the wind.

Bokuto’s eyes went wide at the request, joy turning into hunger as he nodded. “Whatever you want, Akaashi.”

Bokuto was even more reckless than him. 

Tonight, Akaashi was glad of it.

Reaching out he grabbed Bokuto’s hand and pulled him out into the seething mass of people, past Tanaka’s sister and the silver-haired Russian girl, past Hanamaki and Matsukawa, past Komi and Sarukui. He should probably say hello to them at some point.

He didn’t want to say hello.

He just wanted to feel.

The beat was heavy as he turned his back to Bokuto, pulling the man’s hands around his body and pressing them into his hips. Bokuto’s breath was shuddering behind him, hot along his neck.

He never did this. Never allowed Bokuto to touch him like this. Once, twice - enough that he knew what these hands felt like - but never like this. He never gave in like this.

He leaned back against that muscular chest and moved his hips, feeling Bokuto’s lips just a breath away from his neck. The way he moved - fuck, Akaashi could feel the muscles in his arms flexing with every beat. He ground his ass back against Bokuto and heard him gasp, pressing forward almost hesitantly, like he didn’t have permission.

Tonight -

Tonight Akaashi wanted to give him all the permission in the world.

He felt Bokuto come alive behind him, pressing tight. 

Kenma had teased him with pictures of Bokuto’s cock once when they’d been in a fight. Kenma could be such a little shit. Right now, he was almost glad, because it gave him something to picture as he pressed back.

“Akaashi,” Bokuto murmured, lips centimeters from his skin. “Akaashi, are you - can I -”

In some corner of his mind, Akaashi knew he was probably using Bokuto. Trading on his affections in order to chase away the horror of the scene at home.

But it wasn’t like he didn’t care about Bokuto - wasn’t like he didn’t want him.

Even if this moment would have to be locked away here in these sparse few hours.

It would have to be enough.

“Come,” Akaashi said, pulling Bokuto through the other dancers and away from the crowd. There were rooms here. Dirty rooms with bottles on the floor and graffiti on the walls. Couples had already taken over the rooms on the bottom floor so he dragged Bokuto up the stairs to an old office on the second that wasn’t quite as bad as the others. It was still the furthest thing from Akaashi’s ideal, but it would have to do. He was too impatient to wait any longer.

“Akaashi -”

“Shut up, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi growled, pressing him against one concrete wall. There was a window next to him, and moonlight covered one black and tan arm.

The black paint had smudged. It was all over Akaashi’s fingers. For some reason, he liked the idea of Bokuto rubbing off on him.

“Akaashi...” Bokuto repeated, eyes wide and golden as they stared down at him.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” Akaashi said, on some level almost desperate for Bokuto to be the voice of reason here, to keep him from taking what he had no right to take.

“You can do anything you want, Akaashi,” Bokuto murmured, eyes soft.

Too soft.

Too loving.

Growling, Akaashi kissed him, hard and hungry. 

Bokuto’s hands were back on him again, curling around Akaashi’s back and sliding lower as Akaashi ground against him. Bokuto’s hair was waxy and soft between his fingers. Perfect. He smelled like sweat and alcohol and desire and need and Akaashi needed, wanted -

Pulling back a bit he slid a hand down Bokuto’s chest, fingers curling up under that ratty tank top to press against those muscles he’d wanted to taste for so long. Bokuto was making the most delicious noises, arching against him, tilting his head to the side. Akaashi licked his lips. He knew that taste. It was temptation incarnate, all bottled up beneath sweaty tan skin. 

Bokuto was tilting his head to the side exposing the vein and Akaashi wanted. Hated that others had been there before him, had taken even a sip of what was his. He leaned his head forward, inhaling as he slid his hand down, rubbing against the front of Bokuto’s jeans, feeling the hardness that was all his.

“Akaashi, please -”

He wanted it. Needed it. 

“Bokuto...”

Opening his mouth, Akaashi pressed it against Bokuto’s neck, tongue flicking out to taste his skin as he sucked, drinking in all of Bokuto’s rasping moans. He was bringing blood to the surface, breaking capillaries, marking his territory. Bokuto’s pulse throbbed against his tongue, and Akaashi teased himself, lowering his fangs bit by bit.

He could do this. No one was stopping him. Bokuto wanted it, wanted him.

Time slowed. The beat of the music faded into the background. All he could hear was the harshness of Bokuto’s breathing, the beat of his heartbeat, the scrambling sounds of his hands against Akaashi’s back. It was so close. People did this all the time. It was natural, normal, and Bokuto was offering everything to him. It wouldn’t be like -

Flashes of red played out in front of his eyes. The body from this afternoon, the girl he’d found when he was eight, blood on the walls, death, coldness -

“Akaashi?”

Bokuto’s voice sounded so far away.

Blinking, Akaashi saw that was because he was far away, on the other side of the room next to the window. 

Akaashi breathed.

His hand hurt. He’d fallen back against broken glass, could smell his own blood in the air.

“Akaashi, what’s wrong?”

Everything. 

“Nothing,” Akaashi whispered, trying to make himself believe that.

Bokuto stared at him, crouching down and balancing with one hand on the ground like he wanted to approach. “Nothing?” he asked, golden eyes filled with concern.

Akaashi didn’t deserve that concern. Didn’t deserve his love, his loyalty, any of it. Why Bokuto had been stupid enough to fall for him -

He could kill him.

He could kill him with just a bite. If he lost control - if he cut too deep, tore an artery -

Nightmare images flashed before his eyes. Images of Bokuto bleeding out, dead, golden eyes drained of light. 

He couldn’t -

“I decided I didn’t want you,” he said, hating the pain in Bokuto’s inhaled breath.

It was a lie, a lie. A part of him wanted to scream that he was lying. A part of him felt even more sick for trusting that Bokuto would know the truth, would believe in him even after the evidence of his words.

Bokuto sighed. “You’re such -” he started, then shook his head, standing up and walking over to the doorway. “I’m really tired, Akaashi,” he murmured.

Akaashi wanted to cry. He wanted to call Bokuto back, feel those arms around him again, even just to hold him. He hated his life, hated himself, hated all of this.

But Bokuto was gone.

Akaashi turned, curling up on the floor and wrapping his arms around himself, trying to stop the hurt from escaping his chest.

Hands found his back, pulled him up, brushed the dirt away from his skin, let him cry.

“Shh, shh,” Oikawa whispered. “Shh, it’s ok, it’s ok.”

“It’s not, Tooru,” Akaashi whispered.

“I know, Keiji,” Oikawa said, rocking him gently and stroking his hair. “I know.”

“I’m -”

Horrible. An abomination. Wrong, so wrong.

“You’re ours,” Oikawa murmured, holding him close. “Ours, and we love you, no matter what.”

“It hurts, Tooru, hurts so bad.”

“I know, I know. It’ll be ok, I promise. We’ll make everything ok, whatever it is, it’ll be ok.”

The promises were empty, Akaashi knew it. Knew it just like his promises had been when Oikawa had cried in his arms when they were younger, begging him to tell him that Iwaizumi wouldn’t be hurt again, that he could be perfect enough that his parents wouldn’t take their anger out on his beloved human.

Iwaizumi still got hurt, and Akaashi was still a monster, and the world was still a place of nightmares.

But at least they had each other.

That much, at least, would keep him from the sun.

~~~~~~~

Fucking vampires.

Bokuto felt sick to his stomach. He grabbed a bottle of tequila off of a random surface and pushed his way through the crowd, looking around half-heartedly for Kuroo. 

Kuroo was probably off somewhere high as a kite, in the clutches of that new - 

Fucking vampires.

Fuck Terushima.

Fuck Kenma.

Fuck Akaashi.

It hurt, so he took a swig of alcohol to numb the pain. 

“Woah, hey there,” someone said, catching him.

Turning his head he glared at them. Konoha. Just what he needed, another fucking vampire.

“Bokuto?” Konoha said, frowning, eyes analytical as they looked him over. “Bokuto, hey, is everything - sec, Onaga, I - are you alright?”

Pondering the question, Bokuto looked at the two humans behind Konoha. Onaga and Washio. Friends of his, to an extent. Fighters actually officially sponsored by the Akaashi family, like Komi.

Jealousy was an ugly beast, and so Bokuto swallowed it down. “Hey, yeah,” Bokuto said. “I was just going to find a ride back to the gym - not really feelin this crowd right now, ya know?”

“But you can’t drive like -” Onaga started, falling silent when Konoha turned to shoot him a look.

“Uh, we can take you,” Konoha said. 

“But you just got here,” said Washio, frowning.

Konoha worked nights at the hospital, Bokuto remembered. Vampire doctor who took care of humans. At least he wasn’t a total - no, Bokuto knew Konoha wasn’t an asshole. 

“There’s something off about the vibe here tonight,” Konoha said, shrugging. “Besides, Sarukui said Komi was getting bored anyway. Think the gym will still be open? Might be nice to go when it’s less crowded than normal.”

For a moment, Bokuto wondered if Konoha was telling the full truth. He was so tired of the lies.

“Hey!” 

It was the only warning Bokuto got before he felt someone jump on his back, wrapping their arms around him in a koala-like hug. Stumbling slightly, Bokuto watched the fond smile cross Konoha’s face and turned to look at his new passenger.

“Komi,” Bokuto said. Something in his heart relaxed a bit at the sight even as he raised his free hand to tug at the stranglehold Komi had around his neck. 

In return, Komi just gave him a smirking grin. He looked about as trashed as Bokuto wanted to be.

“Here we are, I take you out, show you a good time, and you’re climbing on other men?”

“He’s warmer,” Komi said, turning to Sarukui. 

Another vampire, but Bokuto’s anger at the entire race was slowly fading. Maybe there were one or two good ones out there.

Reluctantly, Komi released his hold and slid off, walking around to look up at Bokuto. “Dude, you look like shit,” he said, letting Sarukui pull him back against him. “I’d say you look like you just got fucked, but it looks more like you just got fucked over.”

Oh, fuck that hurt. 

Konoha cursed, suddenly there and holding Bokuto up. “Come on, we were going to the gym. You two wanna come? Washio went to get the van.”

“Yeah!” Komi yelled.

“He’s gonna fall asleep before we get there,” Sarukui said with a smile.

Jealousy was back again, but this time it just ached, familiar and sore. It was hard not to be happy because of the love in Sarukui’s eyes as he looked down at Komi. It hadn’t been a fairytale for them to get to this point, he knew.

He just wished -

“Van’s ready,” Onaga said, pressing his way back through the crowd. Bokuto hadn’t even seen him leave.

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~

The moon was full in the sky as they drove out along the river. Bokuto leaned the seat back and stared out the window, taking occasional swigs from the bottle and tracing his fingers over the glass.

Komi was being loud in the back seat, yelling something at Onaga. Washio was laughing. It all seemed so far removed. Only the two vampires were being quiet - something he vaguely appreciated as he considered the night sky, wishing he could see the stars.

He wanted to take Akaashi to a place where they could see the stars together.

He took another drink.

It was probably a good thing Konoha wasn’t talking to him. Konoha was often the one who talked to him after incidents like this - not that there had ever been an incident quite like this. He could still feel the roughness of Akaashi’s lips against his own, thought he’d probably have bruises on his back and hips in the morning. A part of him was strangely happy for that. Marks were evidence that Akaashi had touched him, had wanted him - no matter how much he’d said otherwise at the end.

Fucking Akaashi.

In the back of his mind, he knew there was something there, something wrong. That incident at Akaashi’s apartment this afternoon - he didn’t know what had happened, but he knew Akaashi enough to know he’d been scared. Oikawa had played it off, of course. Oikawa was always good like that, guiding everyone’s attention away from the places where his friends stumbled.

A small part of him hoped Oikawa was with Akaashi now. It was the same part of him that felt guilty for just leaving -

Shit. Fuck. No.

Fuck he was tired.

He took another drink, rubbing his neck.

Another part of him was saying it was all his fault, that he shouldn’t’ve pressed for Akaashi to bite him. Hell, it wasn’t like he even really wanted to be bitten. Sure, it was alright - he’d let Kenma do it a few times when they were younger, before he went all exclusive with Kuroo - but he could take it or leave it. The coaches would prefer he not let himself get bitten anyway.

But Akaashi -

Sighing, he set the bottle on his knee and splayed his hand against the glass of the window.

He’d probably do anything for Akaashi.

Die for him, kill for him, hurt - didn’t know he’d go so far as to say he’d do for him what he thought Kuroo was doing for Kenma, but that was another fucked up situation. He was thankful Akaashi had pulled him away from Terushima, that was for sure. 

Akaashi - 

Fuck, it hurt. Hurt all the more because it was easy to tell how much Akaashi cared about him. It was there in the way he always watched, in how scared he’d been when Bokuto had fallen off the roof at Tora’s party, the tiny little brushes of hand over skin when he wasn’t paying attention - hell.

But he seemed to be the one person Akaashi couldn’t let himself love.

It made Bokuto want to throw the bottle out the window. Do something. 

Instead, he hit the dashboard.

“Hey, fuck,” Konoha said, jerking the steering wheel. “Save it for the gym.”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” Bokuto said, turning back when Washio pulled at his arm. “What?”

“Bottle?” Washio asked. “I mean, assuming you want to actually hit the bag when we get there.”

Bokuto considered a moment, looking into the back of the van. Komi looked half passed out on Sarukui’s lap, and but Onaga looked concerned. 

“Yeah, fine,” Bokuto said, giving it up. It was almost empty anyhow.

He was fine just looking at the moon.

~~~~~~~~

The gym wasn’t empty when they got there. It was shared space, after all, a joint business venture between Washijio and one of his friends. Well, Bokuto thought they were friends. It was hard to tell, the way the two acted around each other.

Bokuto let Washio hold him up as they walked to the locker rooms, feeling the alcohol buzzing in his veins. It wasn’t doing any good to his brain, though. Didn’t seem to be dulling the pain there. Maybe it just hadn’t hit yet.

He managed to get changed into his gym clothes, fingers running along the satin of his shorts before glancing over to where Onega and Washio were getting suited up. No, the alcohol didn’t dull the pain at all.

Pushing up from the bench he followed Konoha out to the main room of the gym, seeing the coach holding court with one of his assistants, a nervous-looking man with messy black hair. Bokuto hadn’t seen him much before. Normally, it was the coach’s nephew who came with him to watch them practice at night.

“Ukai-sensei,” Konoha said, bowing to the coach. “We apologize for our unexpected arrival. Do you mind if we use some of the space in the back?”

Looking them over, the old man shook his head. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need the ring, do you?”

“I do not believe so.”

There were two fighters already going at it in the ring. One of them Bokuto recognized. “Isn’t that Akiteru’s kid brother?”

“I think so,” Washio said, taping up his fingers. “Don’t recognize that dude with - woah fuck.”

Bokuto blinked, watching as the blond’s opponent made a move that was far too quick for any human. Kei - that was the kid’s name, right? - moved out of the way and brought his hand down, making the man stumble into the ropes.

“That - is he fighting a vampire?” Bokuto asked.

“Yep!” piped up a voice beside them. 

Looking down at Hinata, Bokuto grinned. “Hey shrimp. Should’ve known you’d be here with these guys.”

“Yeah! Kageyama wanted to come try it out. He and Tsukishima have been practicing in private for a while.”

“Kage -” Bokuto said, looking around at Konoha’s gasp of breath.

Bokuto knew that name. Knew - ah, there, standing next to the short blonde. Classic vampire pose, long dark hair, glasses. Of course, if Kageyama was here he’d bring his shadow.

“Princes have weird ideas about hobbies,” Bokuto muttered.

“Hey!” said Hinata.

“Don’t mind him, he’s drunk,” Washio said, tugging Bokuto back towards the punching bags.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Yachi, that was the short blonde’s name. Good fighter, from what he recalled. Then again, most of Sawamura’s crew was.

He didn’t know the shadow, though she looked familiar, like someone they’d gone to school with. Kageyama had been a couple years behind them in school, though. He’d never met him, just knew Oikawa bitched about him on a fairly regular basis.

“Think we should call Yahaba?” Sarukui asked Konoha. “Just in case.”

“Probably. It’s doubtful they’ll leave the party, but still.”

Bokuto ignored them, grabbing the tape from Washio and fixing up his hands as he looked over at the woman currently punching away at one of the bags.

Feeling his gaze she glanced over, holding the bag as she looked him up and down. 

“Hey,” she said, pushing stray hair out of her eyes. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. Kaori said you guys had some party.”

Shrugging, Bokuto stepped closer, steadying himself on one of the bags near hers. “Got tired of it,” he mumbled. “How’s your night, Yukie?”

“Fair. Getting ready for the fight. Saeko’s supposed to be by soon, give me some tips.”

“Saeko - oh, Tanaka’s older sister?” Bokuto said, stepping back and squaring himself up. “She was there at the party I think - with the Russian?”

“Alisa? Great. Well, hell. Guess I’ll just practice for a while then.”

Bokuto just nodded. He didn’t have the energy for idle conversation, not right now. There were mirrors on the back wall that showed him exactly how messed up he looked. The black lines Kuroo had painted on him earlier were smudged. Glancing down at his arms he saw fingerprints in the black ink.

Akaashi’s fingerprints.

If he was a crime scene, they’d find evidence of Akaashi everywhere. It amused him somehow. Everyone else around him was wearing Akaashi’s colors but him, so why shouldn’t he -

No.

Take the anger out on the bag.

He tried to ignore the towel Yukie picked up to wipe her face with, black and white and gold with a little owl stitched into the corner. Tried to be happy for the fact that he wore red and black. Kenma was a good friend, after all, even if he was acting weird. Kenma had given him a chance when no one else had.

He could still remember that day back in junior high when his coach had asked him to stay late for a match, remembered the worry in his mother’s eyes and the pride in his father’s. The first time he’d seen Kuroo was when he stepped onto the mat that evening. Kuroo’s grin had been wild, excited as he bounced on his feet and raised his fists.

He loved that look in Kuroo’s eyes.

It hadn’t gone away even after Bokuto had beaten him in that fight - barely, mind, but he’d still made Kuroo tap out. Kuroo had groaned, rolled over, and then hopped up asking if they could go again.

It was only then that Bokuto had noticed the vampires.

Kenma’s hair had still been all black at that point. He really had been like something out of a horror movie - attack of the child vampire or something crazy like that. It was funny as hell now, of course.

Back then - well.

It was the first time he’d seen a vampire in person up close.

Things went fast after that - an invitation to go to high school at the academy with Kuroo and Tora and the rest of them, dealing with his mother’s weeping and promising he’d stay safe, learning to navigate around all the new social customs, and then -

Then, that celebration party. 

He’d gotten sick from eating too much cake and gotten lost trying to find the bathroom in Nekomata’s house. He wasn’t supposed to be in the back halls - no one was, really, and a part of him was frightened that he’d get found by one of the vampires and killed just like his mother said. Then he’d opened the sliding door onto the porch and seen him.

The boy with the curly dark hair looking up at the moon.

Akaashi had turned and looked at him with wide eyes, fingers pressed against themselves as he hissed a whisper asking what Bokuto was doing there. Then he’d turned his head, grabbing Bokuto’s wrist and jerking him down into the bushes, holding a hand over his mouth as a couple of guards walked around the corner of the porch. 

Bokuto could still remember the smell of mint and jasmine, the coolness of Akaashi’s fingers as they pressed against his skin. He’d learned later they hadn’t been in any real danger. Akaashi just didn’t want to be found. Bokuto had laughed after Akaashi finally released him, laughed and talked and become mesmerized by the lonely boy sitting underneath the moon.

He hadn’t lost his life that night, but he had lost his heart.

“Are you gonna punch that thing, or just let it hold you up?” Washio asked, slapping him on the back.

Blinking, Bokuto pushed away from the punching back and scowled at him. Yukie was over talking with Komi and Sarukui now, and Konoha was in the corner showing Onaga some sort of stance. It felt like home. Onaga and Washio were new, but the others - they felt more like a team to him than his own, even if Tora and Yaku and the rest were always supportive. 

Someday - 

Well.

Some nights, it felt like someday would never come.

But he also knew there was only one way to accomplish anything. 

Squaring the bag in front of him, he pulled back and started to punch.

~~~~~~

Akaashi woke the next evening in a room that smelled like fresh-cut grass. Sighing, he rolled over on his back and looked up at the metal ceiling high above.

“You’re awake,” Oikawa called, walking across the floor with a couple of bottles in hand. 

“Theoretically.”

He’d woken up on a pile of cushions that Oikawa said was a bed. He’d read about it in some book, decided he wanted to try decorating the garden shed like some palace in a fairytale, with bright fabrics and fancy tile floors. This was, of course, before his obsession with astronomy and aliens had completely taken over the top floor of the shed - much to Iwaizumi’s displeasure, since the shed was also where he normally slept.

That had been back in high school, though. 

“Why are we at your parents' place?” Akaashi asked, sitting up and taking the bottles from Oikawa.

“Well, Iwa-chan decided to invite Makki and Mattsun home last night. You didn’t seem like you were in the mood for that sort of thing, so I brought you here instead.”

“You could’ve just taken me home.”

Sitting down across from him, Oikawa said, “I thought about it. But Konoha and the others were already gone -”

“Gone?”

“Took Bokuto to the gym. Called Yahaba to make sure we didn’t come by. Did you know our dear Tobio-chan has taken up fighting with humans?”

“Humans?” Akaashi asked, brow furrowing. 

Kageyama was a gifted fighter, probably one of the best. There was no way any human would stand a chance against him in a fight.

Well, not unless he wanted them to.

“I know, it’s very strange. Then again he’s always been weird.”

There was a bitterness on Oikawa’s face that didn’t suit him. Akaashi didn’t know all the details behind the two’s enmity. He knew Kageyama’s family had been associated with Oikawa’s before his grandmother had pulled them to elite status, knew Kageyama’s cousin Kunimi and his shadow preferred spending time with Oikawa and Yahaba and the others. Beyond that, he hadn’t asked.

“Anywho,” Oikawa said, waving a hand, “I decide to bring you here. You like the plants, and Watari-san just imported a new batch of night-blooming orchids.”

That made Akaashi smile. He glanced over at his pants on the floor near him, tugging them closer with his toes and pulling his phone out of the pocket. “I should check up on -”

“Bokuto is fine.”

Scowling, Akaashi backed out of the message he’d been about to send. Bokuto hadn’t texted him anyway, it was better this way. “I meant Konoha,” he lied.

“Right. Whatever,” Oikawa muttered, sighing. “He looked bad last night. Worse than usual. Did you -”

“Did I what, Tooru?” Akaashi snapped.

All it got him in return was another sigh.

He hadn’t -

Hadn’t done anything.

“What will you do if he ever decides to leave?”

Akaashi felt bitterness rise up in his throat, choking it out in a laugh. “He wouldn’t leave.”

“Why, because he likes it when -”

“Oh, you’re one to talk! You, and - how many years did it take you and Iwaizumi to -”

“Well, at least I’m with him now!”

“Yeah, him and how many other men on a nightly basis?”

“Oh please, you’re going to get onto me because I have the balls to actually sleep with the man I love - and others if we so choose?”

“Well, at least I don’t let Bokuto get hurt!”

The hand on his neck pushing him back into the cushions was expected, even welcomed. Oikawa’s eyes were red, focused, fangs bared. For a moment, Akaashi wished -

But no. Oikawa would never hurt him, not like that.

Cursing Oikawa pulled back. “You’re so full of shit, Akaashi,” he muttered, rolling to his feet and stalking across the floor. “What, are you trying to push me away now too? Not just Bokuto? You want to really be alone?”

Akaashi shrugged, taking another swig of blood. 

“No,” he muttered.

“Or is it just that he’s taught you bad habits, that you can take your anger out on the people who love you? Because that’s what you’re doing, you know. You’re a liar if you say you don’t let Bokuto get hurt because you’re the one who breaks his heart. Over and over and over. Why he even -”

“I don’t know,” Akaashi whispered. The look on Bokuto’s face the night before played again in his mind, the little gasp of pain. ”Maybe it would be better if he stopped coming back.”

“Better for who - him, or you? Because you know you’d -”

Die, probably. Want to.

“At least that way he’d stay alive.”

“Oh, yeah, way to be melodramatic.“ 

Akaashi looked at Oikawa’s back, trying to think of the right words to say to play this off. He should’ve said something different. Too many clues and -

Oikawa turned, staring at him, making Akaashi look away.

“Except you aren’t melodramatic,” Oikawa said. “I’m melodramatic. I make strange, outrageous statements that people don't know whether to believe or not. That’s my thing, you don’t get to take my thing.”

“Sorry,” Akaashi mumbled.

He heard footsteps coming back his way, saw Oikawa kneel next to him, hand reaching out and then withdrawn.

“Except you aren't being melodramatic, are you,” Oikawa murmured.

Akaashi looked down.

“Keiji, I know we don’t - I know there are some lines we don’t cross but -”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re my best friend. You are my business.”

Shaking his head, Akaashi said, “You can’t save everyone, Tooru.”

“Fuck everyone.”

“Well, that is what you normally do,” Akaashi murmured, laughing softly when Oikawa hit him on the shoulder.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not really in the mood, but -”

“Shut up.”

That, he could do.

Oikawa’s hand was back, taking his own. 

Akaashi remembered the first time Oikawa had taken his hand. Remembered being six, and alone, surrounded by adults that were terrified of him and children that didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Remembered the crush of the sakura petals beneath his feet, the shadows of the trees he’d tried to hide behind because he didn’t want his guards to find him and make him go home. Home to her.

Then he met this small, scruffy-haired vampire kneeling in the dirt and looking at bugs.

“Oh no,” Oikawa had said, pouting as the bug he’d been chasing flew away, seeing Akaashi when he looked around. “Hey! I know you. Come on! We need to find a beetle for Iwa-chan so he isn’t so sad anymore.”

He remembered being pulled along behind the other kid, helping him catch a beetle with long black horns, witnessing Oikawa’s mother’s displeasure when she discovered them. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” she’d hissed at Oikawa. “You know what you need to do if you want Hajime to not have any more accidents, and it isn’t this.”

Then she’d looked at Akaashi. Seen him, gotten a crafty look on her face and then smiled in a way that chilled Akaashi to the bone. He hadn’t been afraid of her, of course. His own mother was much scarier. Still, he didn’t like seeing the look of fear in his new friend’s eyes.

“It’s for me,” Akaashi had said. “I wanted the bug.”

“Did you now, hmm? Well, well. Imagine that, Tooru - two friends that like bugs. How lucky for you and Hajime.”

Then Akaashi's aunt had come over, smiling politely at Oikawa-san and deftly extricating them from the situation.

Fortunately, his aunt thought the Oikawa’s son was a good playmate. Akaashi’s first friend.

Now, Akaashi’s best friend.

“Tell me?” Oikawa asked, squeezing his fingers. “Or at least tell me something I can do so that you aren’t so -”

“I don’t know what to do.”

He trusted Oikawa more than anyone, but no one outside the house could know. Even inside the house the only one of his friends knew, and that was only because Konoha had been one of the doctors that saved the last girl’s life. 

Barely.

Maybe, maybe -

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” Akaashi said.

“Just one thing?” asked Oikawa, laughing softly when Akaashi scowled at him. “Alright, sorry, go ahead.”

“I’m afraid,” Akaashi said, “that if I ever start to feed on a human, I won’t be able to stop.”

Laughing again, Oikawa said, “Don’t be silly. It’s - all you have to do is pull out, everyone knows -”

“I never have.”

“What?”

“I’ve never drunk from anyone before.”

“Ok, I should - wait, you’re serious.”

“This surprises you?”

“I know, I know, you’re always serious, but -”

Akaashi looked up into his eyes, watching the smile fade from Oikawa’s face. 

“Never?” Oikawa asked, brow furrowing.

“Never.”

“But - Akaashi - all the - never?”

It wasn’t that strange, Oikawa’s disbelief. Then again Oikawa was not exactly indiscriminate about who he fed from. Iwaizumi the most, Akaashi knew - but Matsukawa and Hanamaki as well, and even Watari at times. That wasn’t even counting random guys at their parties. Humans who wanted a walk on the wild side, who wanted to know the ecstasy of a vampire’s bite.

“Why don’t you try?” Oikawa asked. “Wait - is that why - Bokuto -”

It hurt, Oikawa knowing a secret this close to his heart. Still, it was better for Oikawa to know this than to know about his mother.

“It is.”

“And you’ve been hiding it this long.”

“Yeah, I guess. It hasn’t been that important. I mean, I do just fine on bottled blood. Have all my life.”

“Well yeah, I mean we all supplement sometimes, but -”

“But what?”

“Keiji,” Oikawa said, frowning and looking down at their hands.

“What?”

Nibbling on his bottom lip, Oikawa finally said, “You’re going to have to if you want a scion. And if you don’t have a scion - we’re all going to have them, Akaashi. I already have Iwaizumi, you know... Daichi and Suga have probably already done their weird thing, though I’m not sure how that even works. I thought Kenma would do it with Kuroo, but after seeing what’s been going on with Terushima lately - ugh. I can’t get a read on that guy.”

He meant Kenma, Akaashi was pretty sure. And while that was a problem they’d have to figure out, that still left the bigger problem.

“That’s a part of what it means to have a scion?” Akaashi asked, frowning down at their hands. “I thought I could just -”

“The blood bond is important. I can’t - ugh, I can’t tell you why, but yeah. There’s no way it would work without it.”

“Oh,” Akaashi said, trying to think it through. Maybe he just wouldn’t have one. Maybe he could just - just walk away from all this? Or try to play without one, but -

“Without a scion, you’ll be at a severe disadvantage. I mean, I know we’ve always planned to be allies as much as possible, but...”

They had. He couldn’t let Oikawa carry him, either. And there were also his people to think of - Konoha, Kaori, Sarukui, and all the humans. They’d been born to help support him, if he was gone he didn’t know what would happen to them. 

“Who would you want to be your scion?” Oikawa asked.

Only one face flashed in his mind. “You know who,” said Akaashi. That was impossible, though. The idea of Bokuto dead - and even if Akaashi's bite didn't kill him, if he was a scion he’d be even more of a target for others, wouldn’t he? “Maybe I can just find someone else.”

Someone he didn’t care about.

“You don’t want to do it with just anyone,” Oikawa said. “Trust me - hell, I’m not even sure it’s possible.”

“Well then, I’ll figure something out - but not him.”

“But -”

“No.”

“Keiji - come on, talk to me. We can figure something out, but I need to know why -”

“No! Look. I need to get home, check on things. We’ll talk later.”

“But - the flowers -”

“Another time,” Akaashi said, standing and curling his hands into fists. A million scenarios ran through his head, none of them leading to a good outcome. The risks were just too great every which way he looked. “Look - I can’t. I can’t tell you, I can’t talk about it, I can’t - Bokuto - I just can’t.”

Oikawa sucked in a breath, rising up and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Keiji...”

Glancing back at him, Akaashi just shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. Do not worry, Oikawa-san.”

Looking at him a moment longer, Oikawa nodded and looked down in defeat. “As you wish.”

“I will call you later,” Akaashi said, walking out the door.

Some things even the best friends in the world couldn’t fix.

~~~~~~~

Akaashi strode into work and picked up his messages, flipping through them as his aunt came out of her office.

“You’re late,” she said.

“Obasan,” he replied, giving a little bow of his head. “Apologies, I had to take care of some things at the home.”

Pursing her lips, she glanced at her secretary and then nodded at him. “I trust everything is stable?”

“Yes.”

If stable meant the fact that his mother had tried filling up the tub with blood from the refrigerator, at least. Then again, it was better than her doing something really crazy, like leaving the apartment. They were lucky she was borderline agoraphobic at this point.

“Good. Semi is in the conference room working up the details for the gala next week. You said the Goshiki family recently sent their prince to town?”

“Yes.”

“Terushima's prince is back in town as well, and - well, I doubt that the Sakusa family will send a representative, what with their prince’s quirks along with the fact that Sugawara will be coming, you know how he feels about the idea of a human on the council. Who knows what they’re going to end up doing about his phobia. They'll probably even have to force him to -”

Glancing up when she stopped, Akaashi asked, “Force him to what?”

“Ah, nothing,” she said, giving him a calculating glance. “You have a human you’re close to, right? Someone - Washio? Bokuto? It was a boy, right? Kaori-chan seems taken with that girl, was babbling on to me about some restaurant they went to - but that’s neither here nor there. You have someone, right?”

A chill went down Akaashi’s back. “Why?”

“It’s important for you to have people in your life, Keiji, that’s all,” she said, frowning slightly as she turned back towards her office. “In the days to come, you’ll need people you can count on.”

“Thank you, obasan,” he said, watching her walk through the door.

There was a threat there, and secrets she wasn’t sharing with him yet. He knew enough to read what was going through her mind, though.

Games. Always games. Always tests to see if he was ready. 

Well, it wasn’t like she’d wanted him born anyway.

Turning down the hall he picked up his computer from his office and went to the conference room.

“Semi-san,” he said, nodding his head at his friend.

Looking up, Semi nodded in greeting. “Akaashi-san.”

“Obasan said that you were finishing things up for the gala?”

“Yes. The catering is all straightened out, we’re just rearranging the seating chart because of some last-minute additions.”

“The Goshiki prince?”

“Goshiki, yes. And a guest, I believe.”

“You and Tendou are coming as well, correct? And, ah, Ushijima? I think several of the council members are interested in meeting him.”

“Yes. We will be there.”

“Good,” Akaashi said, setting up across from Semi and plugging in. “Any response from the Sakusa family yet?”

“I don't believe their prince is coming, but the council member will be there. I think they’re sending a representative - Komori?”

“Ah, he’s not bad. The best of the bunch, I believe. And Kageyama?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure to sit him away from Oikawa.”

Semi nodded, turning back to the list. “Is Bokuto coming?” 

It took a moment for Akaashi to remember that Semi hadn’t been there the previous night, that he didn’t know what had happened. Besides, of all the people in his life, Akaashi knew Semi didn’t play games. Not like this. That was what made him perfect for this job. He had ties to most of the major houses but no loyalty to any single one. 

“If Kozume choses to bring him,” Akaashi said, opening up the HR personnel files and putting in some search criteria. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Semi glance up at him, studying him for a moment before giving a nod. “I’ll make inquiries.”

Kenma probably would bring Bokuto. Akaashi was relatively sure he was a good part of the reason why Bokuto was so insistent. Konoha was another.

He’d have to talk with him. Explain things.

Flipping through profile pictures, Akaashi paused. Decent looking. Unattached. Smart. Loyal member of their West subsidiary group.

Typing up a message, Akaashi sent it without allowing himself a moment to second-guess.

If there was one thing life had taught him, it was that he couldn’t have what he really wanted without it falling to pieces in his hands. He might not be able to convince Kenma, but maybe if Akaashi stopped showing interest in Bokuto, Kenma would let him go. Let him go back to the human world, live a normal life.

Have a normal family.

Be happy.

Out of all the possibilities he’d run through in his head, this had the most possibilities for Bokuto to end up safe and happy, and he was willing to do anything for that.

That was what love was all about, right?

~~~~~~~

Sighing, Bokuto sat back against the gym wall and took a swig of water, covering his eyes with a towel. He was tired. His muscles ached, and he hurt in a million places.

Normal stuff.

“Hey hey hey,” Kuroo said. “You don’t look like the guy who’s a few days away from defending our honor.”

“Hey, bro,” Bokuto said, looking up as his friend slid down next to him. 

Kuroo was alive. He didn’t have that pale, shaky look he sometimes got after feedings - though it had been hours, he might be better. His eyes were a bit tight, though. A part of Bokuto wanted to ask him what was going on, but another part knew he probably wouldn’t get a straight answer.

Everyone in life has problems.

There was a new bruise on Kuroo’s right forearm, though. It looked like fingers had been wrapped around his wrist. Nudging the arm, Bokuto asked, “Rough night?”

“What? Oh, no big. Just a little misunderstanding. Is all.”

Bokuto swallowed, nodding. Kuroo’s fingers lingered over the bruises, tracing their outline. They were made by a larger hand. Not Kenma’s, then. Not that Kenma would ever hurt Kuroo.

Right?

Let him get hurt - that might be a different story. 

“Is it worth it?” Bokuto asked, meeting his friend’s gaze as he looked up at him.

Pursing his lips, Kuroo shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, it’s all worth it.”

“Why do you -”

“Why do you fight, Bo?”

Why did he fight?

Looking around the gym, Bokuto thought about that question. It wasn’t a bad one, all things considered. His mother had asked him that time and time again, asked him to give up fighting. His father - well, it wasn’t exactly that he’d encouraged it. He hadn’t been one of those dads cheering their sons and daughters on rinkside, boasting to their friends. But he’d supported Bokuto’s desire.

In some ways, it was probably foolish. He knew there were some fights he’d never win.

He still remembered the news when he was a child, reading about the vampire that had kidnapped a string of kids, leaving a chain of bodies drained in abandoned houses in the next neighborhood over. His parents had tried to keep the news from him, but it was hard when the last victim had been a friend of a friend of a friend, found miraculously alive, turned into a vampire himself. The vampire responsible had died during the process, but it still stuck with him.

His eyes watched that victim tonight, seeing him jump around, throwing punch after punch in the air all excited as he talked to Komi. Crazy redhead. Refused to let anyone keep him from flying. Even after all he’d been through, his eyes were still innocent.

Most of the time.

Most people weren’t that lucky, but still - you didn’t win anything by giving up.

“I guess I fight because the world’s a violent place, and sometimes you have to know how to fight back.”

Laughing, Kuroo pushed his hair back and said, “Ok, yeah, that’s fair.”

“How about you?”

“I fight because I have someone worth fighting for.”

Kenma. He meant Kenma. There were a ton of people Kuroo cared about enough to fight for, but Bokuto knew how he watched Kenma, knew intimately the way they cared for each other.

Or had. Sometimes Bokuto worried -

But ultimately, this was Kuroo’s choice, and he needed to respect that.

Maybe someday he’d be able to answer that question the same way. Maybe he’d have someone worth fighting for who fought for him. It was the dream, that Akaashi would let down his walls, let Bokuto in for real. He was getting so tired of living on hopes and dreams.

“Shit,” Kuroo said.

“Eh? What?” Bokuto asked, looking up.

“Bo, you don’t have to -”

Akaashi.

Akaashi and Konoha and - someone -

Akaashi with his hand curled around a man’s waist, both of them looking like they’d just come from the office. The man - he was shorter by a couple of inches, short brown hair, sharp eyes. Human. Bokuto was fairly sure he was human.

“Hey, Bo, stop -”

He didn’t even realize he’d pushed up and walked across the gym until he was right in front of them.

“Good evening, Bokuto-san, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi said, bowing his head politely. “Shiroshi-san, I’d like to introduce two of the top fighters sponsored by Kozume.”

“Pleasure,” the man said, “I believe we were in some of the same classes at school, actually.”

“Were you? That’s lovely,” said Akaashi. “I’m looking for Kozume-san himself, wanted to introduce the two of them. Shirohi-san and I met at a business meeting today and discovered we had quite a few things in common. Isn’t that right?”

Akaashi wasn’t meeting his eyes.

Akaashi was treating him like he was - like he wasn’t anyone - like -

“It was a very pleasant surprise, yes,” said the human, this man, this person that shouldn’t be touching Akaashi at all let alone -

Kuroo’s hand caught Bokuto’s wrist. “I think Kenma’s up in the office,” he said.

“Thank you, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi said, bowing again before heading off. The look Konoha shot him as they left was full of helpless pity.

Bokuto couldn’t take his eyes off of Akaashi’s hand as it slipped down over the man’s hip, or the curve of his lips as he looked down at the other man’s face before they climbed the stairs to the office.

“What was that?” Bokuto whispered.

For a moment Kuroo looked distant, thoughtful, then he frowned. “I don’t know,” he said, looking at Bokuto full on. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Akaashi - he’s never -”

It felt like the world was crashing down on him. Akaashi had pushed him away before, said cutting things, but he always took it back. Always sent Bokuto some link to an owl event, or something that made him smile, or responded to Bokuto’s stupid questions -

But he’d never ever laid hands on another human like that in Bokuto’s presence. It was almost like he was flaunting the man in his face.

“What did I do?” Bokuto asked.

“Nothing,” Kuroo hissed, more anger in his voice than Bokuto had heard in a long time. “You didn’t do anything Bo, just - fuck. It’s probably nothing, ok? Just -”

“What if he meant it, Kuroo? What if he finally found someone he really wants - someone who doesn’t drive him crazy, someone worthy.”

“Bo, please - we’ll figure it out, ok? We’ll fix it if we can, you know we’ve got your back, bro. Whatever it is - we’ll get through it, ok? Together.”

Yeah. Together.

Right.

But what if there was nothing left to be fixed?

**Author's Note:**

> [Character reference list here!](http://kaiyouchan.tumblr.com/post/156812954799/scion-and-sake-houses-ok-just-because-this-au)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to [lowermiddlechild](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lowermiddlechild) who has been phenominal support for this entire series! (And also an awesome writer you should go read things now)
> 
> Please feel free to come talk/yell at me on tumblr! My username is [kaiyouchan](http://kaiyouchan.tumblr.com). Hope you enjoy!
> 
> And.... there is more to this story, don't worry too much.


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